Never Be The Same
by FlightlessBird1122
Summary: When tragedy strikes, everyone is forced to reevaluate themselves, because, deep down, they know that it was their fault too. My continuation of the last chapter of my story A Change of Pace:
1. Part 1

**Never Be the Same Ch.1**

Blood, blood, blood. Everywhere. I put my hand over my mouth, nausea getting the better of me. I couldn't make my legs move, because I was frozen. With shock? Fear? Either way the guy in front of me was bleeding out and I was doing absolutely nothing to save him.

_*flashback*_

I walked, following Fitz slowly through the halls. Suddenly, he stopped, the door in front of him as plain and basic as the million others we'd passed."Let's talk in here." I nodded mutely, fear taking my voice. This was it. I walked in ahead of him, praying that this ended well. I had a bad feeling about this and the last time I had a premonition like this my sister was raped. I leaned against a desk in the front row, my stance leisurely. When the click of the door sounded, I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"So, what is this all about?" I questioned. He looked down, handsclenched tightly in his pockets.

_"I have...issues...with everything." He started slowly. I nodded in acknowledgement. "At home and school, even after hours." Fitz took a deep breath. "My family is messed up. Really badly. My dad, he beats me a lot. It used to only happen when he was really mad but now it's almost every other day. My mom used to stop him, but when he hit her too she stopped." His voice cracked at the end. He didn't cry, like I already was, but his eyes refused to meet mine and his shoulders slumped pitifully. "She's too busy smoking now to notice anyway. You name it, she's tried it." Fitz finally looked up at me, his pleading blue eyes dull. They sparkled with water but not a single drop spilled.  
_

_*flashback end*_

Everything about him in that moment in time screamed, "Save me. Help me" and I didn't realize soon enough. Time unfroze, and the adrenaline finally kicked in, allowing my limbs to move again. I whipped my phone from out of my pocket and tried one, two, three times before successfully dialing 9-1-1. When the operator finally came onto the line, my throat closed up and I couldn't speak. After looking back down at Fitz's injured body, I snapped the phone closed, praying they could track the call's location.

I was shaking and my hands didn't want to cooperate, but I had to do this. I needed to be brave because otherwise this broken person would slip from beneath my fingertips. He would die and it would be all my fault. With that thought, my body stilled enough to allow me to concentrate. What now? I thought, frantically glancing around. My eyes landed on a few towels the teacher had on top of a mini fridge in the corner of the classroom and the haze in my brain cleared.

Stop the bleeding.

*F/B2*

_"What do you mean" I asked warily. It obviously wasn't anything good._

_"Everyday I wander the streets for hours, because I don't want to go home. And to make it worse, even my older brother is always high on the drugs he steals from my mom. I have nowhere to turn to Clare. Then, as if my life wasn't screwed up enough as it is, whenever I think about not coming back home I'm forced to worry about my little sister. I couldn't leave her alone with them."_

I wanted to reach out and give him a hug. He certainly needed it. After hearing about everything he was going through I felt like the most self-centered person on Earth for ever complaining about my parent's bickering.

"Fitz...I never knew-"

"Exactly! Nobody knows! Everyone just assumes that I like to beat people up, that I like being feared, that I enjoy being an asshole, but I don't! That saying about judging books by their covers is true, Clare. I, I just want to get through high school and move on with my life. Get as far away from all of this as possible." His face went hard. "If your boyfriend will let me. To tell you the truth, I'm not much of a bully. I don't have many friends and the few I do are more like followers. If I don't keep up appearances then I'll just be alone."

_*End f/B2*  
_  
I was on the third towel by the time I started hearing sirens in the distance. My hands were red as well as the now crimson red towel that practically sopped with blood. I had taken a first aid class a few summers back and I learned that you should always see where the wound is, stop the bleeding and then treat it accordingly.

I never did like that class.

Passing it didn't make this any easier though. I picked his back up off of the floor, very slightly, and carefully removed his shirt. After I wiped a bit of the blood away I found that the wound was very slight. Just above his ribcage but over too far to have hit anything notably vital. There is too much blood though and I can't play doctor forever. "Fitz?" I whispered weakly. He had to wake up. He couldn't die. Absolutely not. "Mark Fitzgerald! Get up! You have to get up!" I choked out, my tears disappearing within the pool of blood forming beneath us. I kept shaking him until my fear of hurting Fitz more stopped me.

This is really happening.

Fitz was shot. I am here, with his life in my hands and where are the police? Somewhere the hell else. Not here where I needed them. They were just a few more people that have failed Mark in his lifetime. I wish he'd told me sooner. If I'd known, I would have been nicer, tried to help him. Anything. Anything to prevent this. But it was too late for what ifs. I have to live with my mistakes and everyone else's that ultimately led to this.

_*F/3_*

_"You know, the night before I messed with Eli, my mom got drunk and accidently burned me with her cigarette. Yeah, I think it's fair to say I wasn't in the best of moods that morning. I also had a freaking migraine that made everything a million times worse than it was, so when Goth Boy comes pumping his screamo music my head practically burst into flames."_

Eli's music does tend to have that sort of affect on people.

"I really wasn't trying to start anything, but he was the one that kept it going. When you think about who the bad guy really is in this situation, think about this. Who was willing to end this at any given time? Who sent the other to jail? Who continued to retaliate even after the other was done? Not me. All that was your egotistic boyfriend. As if my life wasn't complicated enough!" He kept running his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth across the front of the classroom.

_I wasn't sure what I should do so I did the first thing that came to mind; Grabbed his shoulders, holding Fitz in place, before speaking."Stop! Don't do this to yourself! I know you feel overwhelmed and helpless but please, please don't sit here and keep it in. Doing this  
isn't helping." He looked at me, eyes wide, before shrugging my hands off of him and going back to his beloved pacing._

_"Now when I come to school I have to deal with my horrible grades, even shittier friends, and then worry about whether or not your boyfriend had anything planned to make my day even worse. Oh, then I have to do it again the next day and pretend I didn't cry myself to sleep the night before!" He stopped in his tracks, suddenly turning towards me._

I wanted to cry. This was too much to take in. Too much to bear and he had been doing it for so long. "I-I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up." He whispered. At that, I pulled him into my arms, giving him the tightest hug I could muster. He couldn't already be this far in. Having those sorts of thoughts, but the reality was a sad place to be.

_*End F/3*  
_  
"Someone! Please! Help, I'm with an injured person and he really needs help!" I yelled frantically. Fitz wasn't answering and his breathing was much shallower than before.

"Clare," Mark rasped out. My attention was immediately on him, "thanks for listening." I smiled, though I know he can't see me.

"After this I'll listen to you any time. I promise. Things will be different." His jaw muscles twitched upward into a slight smile before falling again.

"Really?" I squeezed his hand.

"Really." Then he seemed to go unconscious because his already weak grip slackened and his head went limp. Never good signs for highly injured people to show. I heard the frantic steps of people down the hall just before the door burst open.

It all felt like a hazy dream after that.

Men in uniforms burst inside baring guns and various weapons. Vaguely I felt arms wrap around me and a familiar voice in the background but the main thing I remember is how cold I felt after Fitz was pried from my arms. This could be it. Rain fell from the sky, because at that moment even God was crying at how drastically wrong this situation was, and as the water rolled down my cheeks, I finally realized the severity of the situation.

Mark Anthony Fitzgerald may never come back. He may not live or he'll be physically impaired and when it comes down to it, it's all our fault.

* * *

**A/N- Wow...it's been a while. I finally got the inspiation to finish this story though so I can happily post it and move on with my life! Took long enough! Oh, and this is just a small Epilogue so to speak for my story A Change of Pace. If you haven't read it then this may be a bit confusing. **


	2. part 2

**Never Be The Same Ch.2**

I'm not sure how long I sat there. Time ceased to exist. Everything was a blur and I couldn't make sense of any it. My mind was blank, except for the painful memories I couldn't seem to erase.

_"Dead at the scene of the crime."_

They hadn't wanted to tell me, especially since I was a suspect, but I told them I was the closest thing to family that he had. Now I regret it. These feelings are so potent and all consuming that I could drown in them. Drown in all of the regret, pain, and sorrow I was feeling right now. Fitz was dead. Period the end. Gone from this planet forever. It was a lot to take in such a short time.

So, rather than pretending to be fine or happy or anything for that matter, I sat. The raucous hospital was the perfect way to drown out all of the noise in my head. The endless stream of "what if's". People, of all sorts and kinds, wearing fake smiles and pitiful looks interrogated me. They wanted to know what happened. The most popular questions were "How did he die?" or "Whose gun was it?" The worst one was the inevitable, "Did you do it?"

* * *

_"Clare! Clare!" Someone was shaking me. The numbness was beginning to wear off and I blinked once, twice until I could make sense of the blur that was my vision._

"_Eli?" I whispered, dazed._

_Strong arms pulled me to him and the smell of cinnamon and some eccentric cologne engulfed my senses."Oh, thank God!" he cried, the words getting muffled in the fabric of my dress. I just sat there in his embrace, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening. "Don't scare me like that again! When I heard the gunshot... and then I see all of this blood!"_

_Eli's normally dark green eyes were bright with worry as he checked me for bodily wounds. There were none, at least, not physical ones. "I'm fine, Eli. Fitz... I-I didn't help him." I choked out, my head falling in shame. He looked into my eyes, wet with unshed tears, and the worry lines in his face became more accentuated._

_"Clare," he whispered as his slim fingers ghosted the now wet canvas of my face, "what happened?" My eyes immediately found the floor, unwilling to recap what happened to my concerned boyfriend. "At least tell me if you're okay? You weren't hurt right? I didn't have any wounds serious enough for him to worry about so I shook my head no. Besides, with all of the blood on me, he couldn't know whose was whose._

_Eli nodded his head in assent before pulling me into his arms once more. I felt a shaky breath fan my neck before he began speaking. "I was scared, Clare. I thought that I'd lost you." He squeezed me a bit tighter. "I have no idea what I'd do without you, but you have to tell me what happened in there, Clare. Why is Fitz dead right now?" Eli asked, pulling away from me slightly. I looked out one of many the windows in the classroom, unsure of how to answer. So I stated the only thing I was sure of as of that second._

_"He wanted to die."_

* * *

I sat at the small kitchenette's table, a plate of food, long gone cold, in front of me. It was untouched just as all of the plates anyone tried to get me to eat were left. What was the point in eating it if I was just going to throw it back up a few hours later? Obviously my father, who had custody of me this week, didn't understand what it felt like to be held at gunpoint, only to have your captor shoot himself just after spilling his heart wrenching guts to you.

I couldn't close my eyes without reliving that conversation. Every hidden plea and cry for help that I'd missed. The look of painful agony in Fitz's eyes as the trigger was pulled, and then the peaceful calm that swept over him in death. Forgetting was not an option. Maybe for everyone else it was easy to forget the school bully's death but for me, it was a recurring nightmare I lived each and every day. It had been two weeks since the incident and it still felt as if it were that day. Hours, minutes, seconds ago! Sometimes, I would catch glances of herself in the mirror and see things. See his face behind me, drenched in blood and moaning, pleading for her help. Other times, my smooth pale fingers would be tinted crimson and no matter how long, hard, or persistently I scraped at them the blood wouldn't fully disappear.

Her hands would always be dirty, guilty. However, a moment later it would all be gone. Maybe, never having been there in the first place. All she knew was that Fitz was not here and she felt like she was still back in that room, while everyone else moved on with their lives. His family didn't even bother bringing it to court. They didn't care that their son was dead. All they cared about was their drugs and alcohol. The police filed the case under suicide and decided that no further investigation was necessary after seeing his family.

The only silver lining was that Mark's older brother, who was twenty- three, and mother were sent to jail for possession of illegal substances after I tipped them off and his younger sister Madisen, who was the most adorable little girl, was taken by the Child Protective Services. There was no proof of abuse to charge his father with but hopefully he'd end up drinking himself to a sad, lonely death.

* * *

_"You don't mean that! You can't mean that! If you're standing in front of me right now and asking for help, you cannot want to end you life." I retorted, my mind rejecting the very thought. There was a small, knowing smile on his face and it twisted my gut anxiously. My eyes wandered down to his right hand, which loosely held the small handgun as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world._

_"Clare, when you've seen what I've seen and been through hell and high water just trying to survive you may understand more. I have no life or future, Clare. Even God can't help me now I bet. He only helps beautiful souls like you Clare, with everyday problems, not broken people like me. Thank you for listening, I think this really helped me put everything into perspective. I'm not loved." I was so into his speech that I didn't notice his left hand, slightly shaking, rise to his chest gently as his right lifted the gun slowly to his heart. "Nobody will miss me," his breathing quaked uneasily, "and I'd be better off...gone."_

_That was when I finally noticed the gun again. The safety off and ready to be shot. It was also what I realized exactly what he was saying, what he was doing._

_"Fitz! No!" I screamed just as he pulled the trigger. His trembling hands couldn't keep the explosive weapon stable, causing the shot to fire to the low right of where he'd been aiming. My ears were still ringing from the loud gunshot, yet I heard the infernal weapon drop to the floor. I still saw the peaceful look in his eye as a red flower began to blossom on his chest. And I most definitely heard the blood curdling scream that pealed like thunder through the empty halls when Mark collapsed to the floor, seemingly dead._

* * *

How could I ever forget?

* * *

**A/N- Okay folks! The next part is the last part!**


	3. part 3

**Never Be the Same Ch.3**

The funeral was small.

Less than ten people came and I couldn't blame everyone for not coming. Fitz wasn't exactly nice to his piers. His family was gone and he had little to no friends. I was the only one here that cared. They're here out of obligation; even the priest is only here for his ten dollars an hour.

_"Yes, and as the good Lord said in Ecclesiastes 3: To everything there is a season. A time to be born and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill and a time to heal; A time to break down and a time to build up; A time to weep and a time to laugh."_A cool breeze blew by, chilling me to the bone. The sun wasn't shining and the birds weren't chirping. The sky was a mucky swirl of ominous grays and blacks, the clouds releasing a steady drizzle.

My tears were even more ostentatious due to everyone else's bored and otherwise distracted faces. My hair was damp, sticking to my neck uncomfortably, along with my simple black dress. A strong, somewhat possessive arm tightened around my waist and I leaned into their warmth. Eli was so bored of listening to scriptures; I could tell by the way his eyes wandered. He was guilty too, I knew it, but he didn't want to admit he was as at fault as I was. As everyone was. He was still here though, paying his respects to a boy who he despised because I needed to.

I choked back a sob.

_"… A time to love and a time to hate; a time of war and a time of peace."_The pastor bowed before quietly packing up his things and walking away. That only left one more part of the service.

It was time for us to drop our flowers in and I couldn't! I absolutely can't do it. My feet are frozen to the deep green grass and there was just no way I could- "Come on Clare." Eli whispered as his gentle touch guided me forward to the grave. I glanced at the tombstone; it read "Mark Anthony Fitzgerald; RIP and God Bless". He was really gone. I gripped the ivory rose in my hand tighter, a bit of blood trickling down my wrist and disappearing beneath my sleeve.

I peered into the deep hole in the ground, spotting the cherry wood casket inside. A whoosh of air flew out of my lungs that I wasn't aware I was holding in. It was closed and I was so, so very grateful. Who knows how much I can take of all of this grief and anxiety? "It's your turn." I heard Eli's baritone whisper in my ear. I nodded, wiping my face one last time. He squeezed my shoulder before lightly pushing me closer. I stumbled a bit but soon enough my feet were slowly bringing me closer to the object of each of my nightmares.

I stopped, sitting down at the edge of the grave. "Hey Fitz." I started unsurely. "I finally realize why you did it, kill yourself I mean. You weren't happy. Nobody cared and even now they still don't." My voice cracked with emotion, my tears run dry. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, forgive all of us for... everything." I whispered. My nose sniveled a bit and I knew that it was time to leave. Time to say goodbye and move on. So I looked down, feeling a chilling presence near me, as if his spirit were there in waiting. Waiting to be set free.

"Rest in piece," I whispered, dropping the pure white rose amidst the small pile of flowers. "and farewell." The sky didn't open up and if anything the precipitation got heavier, but with a small smile on my face I walked away. Two men took my place at its side and I heard machinery being moved, followed by the plop of mud splatting. However, I didn't look back. I only took Eli's patient hand in mine as we quietly made our way down the slope. And as we put distance between us and the grave site I figured I knew one thing, at the very least, for sure.

At least one of us was happy.

* * *

**A/N- Short and sweet:) Not exactly happy but I think it summed up A Change of Pace quite well! Thanks for the support and reviews:)**


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